


Power Plays

by Alethia



Series: Power Plays [1]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Bets & Wagers, F/M, Mirror Universe, Party, Propositions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28007601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: "I do believe it's time you joined me in my chambers. Say, an hour?" Michael asked, taking a provocative drink, her dark-stained lips toying with the edge of her glass.Chris smirked. "And ruin you for all other men?"
Relationships: Mirror Michael Burnham/Mirror Christopher Pike
Series: Power Plays [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2060601
Comments: 30
Kudos: 54





	Power Plays

**Author's Note:**

> I got inspired to write Mirrorverse Michael and Pike. Go figure. This is set 6 months before the events of 3.09 "Terra Firma, Part 1." This story does discuss Lorca's grooming of Michael when she was young, so if that will be problematic for you, proceed with caution.

Chris felt the energy shift as he walked into the party, heads turning to take him in, jealous looks swiftly hidden behind respectful nods. He kept himself above it all, coolly surveying the room—a celebration of the Emperor's latest slaughter, the conquest of some godforsaken planet Chris had already forgotten the name of. The room was decorated in the Emperor's usual gilded style, all the bridge officers of the collected ships in attendance, interspersed with the slaves meekly serving drinks.

He clocked Gabriel in the far corner, his glance over seeming casual, though Chris knew it was anything but. More ambition than sense, that one. 

Notably, Michael was not with him, which Chris realized by following Gabriel's gaze back to her, where she sat with Detmer, the two of them making their way through a flight of bubbling drinks. In the distance, Sylvia shot them a glance, speculative. She also noticed something off, then. Interesting.

Chris cursed once again that there hadn't been a handy planet to decimate so as to miss this. He had no interest in these parties, all dick-measuring and catty comments, totally beneath his attention. But the Emperor demanded shows of loyalty and so Chris obliged. 

He didn't have to like it, though. 

Sighing internally, he headed for the bar, figuring he could at least get a decent drink out of the deal. But just one. Otherwise his fellow officers might well take advantage. 

"Captain Pike," Michael greeted, voice turning Chris around just as he reached the bar. "I was wondering if you were going to show." She approached him in the full regalia, gold breastplate showing off her curves, her lips an invitation to sin. Gorgeous. 

Chris smiled a little. "And miss celebrating the Emperor's latest triumph? Never," he said, actually meaning it. Not without a bulletproof excuse, anyway. 

Something tightened in Michael's expression, though it was minute. She smoothly covered it with a nod as she leaned into the bar next to him, gesturing to a slave imperiously. "Yes, Mother was quite impressive."

"I heard. I hope I get the chance to congratulate her personally."

"She's still celebrating," Michael said, a flat note to it as she accepted a drink. So sex, then. You never knew with the Emperor—sometimes it was sex, sometimes torture, sometimes feasting. But the sex made Michael the most dismissive, which Chris had always found intriguing. As if the torture and feasting she understood, but sex?

It made Chris think Gabriel wasn't trying too hard. Shocker. 

"But speaking of," Michael continued, a glint to her dark eyes that Chris absolutely did not trust, "I do believe it's time you joined me in my chambers. Say, an hour?" Michael asked, taking a provocative drink, her dark-stained lips toying with the edge of her glass.

Chris smirked. "And ruin you for all other men?" he shot back.

Still, he couldn't help the _heat_ shooting through him, mind instantly spinning out exactly how that would go, Michael pushing him back into her sheets and riding him, eyes glittering and remote. Doubtless already calculating exactly how she'd use this with Gabriel in their twisted little courtship. 

The temptation of it almost outweighed the headache that would follow. _Almost_. 

Michael blinked shocked eyes at him, at a loss. "I'm serious."

"Sadly, so am I. You'd never be satisfied with anyone else. Really, I'm doing you a kindness." With that, he turned to the slave behind the bar, gesturing sharply, letting Michael's silence settle into something outraged. 

In barely a moment, he had a drink in hand—no, _his_ drink, the Cantaran whisky he preferred. Perhaps the slaves on this ship weren't completely worthless.

Chris smiled as he felt Michael's anger sharpen beside him. He turned back to take her in, sipping at his drink, watching her eyes drop to his mouth, stirring more of that interest in him. Perhaps this proposition wasn't all a means to get at Gabriel, then. It warmed him, he could admit that to himself. Not just anyone caught the attention of the famed Captain Burnham. 

That still didn't mean it was gonna happen. 

Chris shot her a knowing look, Michael realizing he'd caught her and glancing away—over to Gabriel, _of course_ —before looking back. A shade of her disbelief and anger still showed around her eyes. 

He reveled in it. She had no idea how much she gave away. Or perhaps people just didn't pay close enough attention. 

Chris had made a project of studying the Emperor's daughter. He saw it all.

Michael took another sip of her own drink, like she was unbothered, but underneath he could see the seething rage. Not just at the rejection, he thought. "I could kill you for that," she said idly, conversational. 

"And it's a day ending in 'y,'" he shot back, using her same tone, but adding a mocking note underneath it. 

Michael's forehead creased. She covered, but he could see the surprise. He'd thrown her. And the sight of it was _delicious_. 

Chris thought he'd enjoy keeping her off balance, getting underneath the Emperor shield, learning what really made her tick. A shame, that. 

" _Legions_ of the dead have failed to take me seriously," she bit out, the anger simmering more brightly now. 

Chris quirked his lips at her, just to egg that along. "Oh, I take you seriously, Captain," he said putting genuine respect on the title. "You can kill me any time you like. The Emperor won't be pleased, but I imagine you can talk her around," he added, _knowing_.

Michael's eyes narrowed slightly. Direct hit, as he'd suspected. She didn't like being reminded that she was mommy's project. 

She had such _fire_ in her. It really was a damn shame she'd fallen sway to Gabriel's manipulations. Then again, he'd started working her when she was so very young; she'd never really had a chance. Chris found that kind of predation distasteful, but then, what else did ambitious-yet-middling captains really have at their disposal? It had certainly gotten him results. 

"No one rejects me," she said, cold, the point of it all. 

Chris flashed a smile. "Then I offer you the gift of a new experience. You're welcome," he added, indulgent.

Michael glared at him. "You're a coward, then. Afraid of finding Gabriel's knife in your back?"

"That would be Gabriel's style," he said, dry, offering a hint of his derision. 

"So it is fear," she concluded, something satisfied in her expression, like she'd figured him out. 

Chris smiled, placid, and rose to his full height, staring down at her through his lashes. "I don't dally with children." Unlike _some_ people, which they both knew well. 

Michael's eyes widened in offense, then narrowed again as she took a threatening step closer. "I am not a child," she sneered at him. 

Chris bared his teeth. "And yet you're trying to make your boytoy jealous off my back. You can see how I'd get confused."

Michael blinked, like she hadn't expected him to call her on it. She wavered between anger and disbelief, unable to settle on an emotion. "No one speaks to me this way."

"It sounds like somebody should start."

She settled on offense. "And Gabriel is not my _boytoy_ ," she said, like saying so was an insult. "He loves me."

Chris couldn't help his snort.

Michael's entire _body_ tensed. Chris suddenly wanted to taste it, what she felt like when she was in this mood, faintly vibrating with outrage. "And what does that mean?" 

"Gabriel loves power. So sure, in that you get him power, I suppose that means he loves you."

"You make some dangerous assumptions."

Chris _mmmed_ , unimpressed. "Let's do a little test. What's your favorite color?"

Michael frowned, like she didn't trust this. "And you call me childish."

"Indulge me. Don't you want to prove me wrong?" he asked, baiting her. 

The flare of pleasure in her eyes said she did. She tilted her head, giving in: "Gold."

Chris snorted again. So predictable and yet so charming at the same time. He wished he didn't find her quite so compelling. Things would be much easier. 

He nodded over to where Gabriel was holding court, still surrounded by his sycophants, but keeping an obvious eye on them. "Think your beloved knows that?"

Michael stiffened again, this time for a different reason. "Of course," she lied.

Chris threw a mocking little smile at her. "Of course." Without waiting for a response, he headed for Gabriel, on the other side of the room. 

They locked eyes as he approached, Chris clocking the obvious suspicion there, and hidden beneath that, a kind of covetous glee. He certainly thought he had it all figured out. 

Fucking idiot. Chris idly wondered if he'd get to watch Gabriel's execution or if the Emperor would dispatch him quickly. He supposed it depended on how elaborate and ridiculous his ineffective coup would end up being. Part of him was tempted to stick around and find out. 

The part that had kept him alive assured him they would be staying way the hell away, thank you ever so much. 

Seeing that Gabriel's attention was elsewhere, the sycophants looked back at Chris, eyes widening comically before they melted into the crowd.

Typical.

"Captain Lorca," Chris greeted, giving him the expected respect because doing otherwise would antagonize him needlessly. And Chris was very good at hiding his real feelings. 

"Captain Pike," Gabriel returned with a nod, his eyes flicking to Michael as she landed at Chris' side. 

Something wordless passed between them, but Chris ignored it and went breezy and casual. "Settle a bet for us, would you?"

"Captains Pike and Burnham betting. Now I'm intrigued," Gabriel said, measured, like he was trying to suss out Chris' angle. 

As if he could. 

"Tell me. What's Michael's favorite color?" he asked, innocent, _no traps here_. 

The trap flickered in Gabriel's blue eyes. Chris felt the satisfaction of it slip over him like a caress. But he kept his expression neutral as Gabriel answered, "Well, that's easy. Red, of course. Symbolic, for the blood of her enemies."

Chris didn't dare look at Michael, even as the _zing_ swept through him. Instead he nodded, _aw, shucks_. "Well, there you have it." He did look at Michael then, tilting his head. "Congratulations, Captain. You've bested me this time. Maybe we'll go another round someday."

Michael blinked at him, that forehead crinkle back as she tried to figure this out. "Maybe so," she finally said. 

"I'll let you two enjoy your evening. Captains," he said in formal farewell, turning to go. 

"Captain Pike," Gabriel called, turning Chris back around. "What did Michael win?"

Chris' eyes flicked to Michael as he smirked, indulgent. "A favor, of course."

With that, his tipped his head and headed for the door. He'd stayed long enough to have a drink, he'd been seen talking to the Emperor's daughter and Gabriel, it was enough. People responded best to mystery, he'd found. Chris made sure to always be remote, above reproach, and _deadly_.

As the captain of the flagship, he supposed it was working for him. 

He moved down the hall, clocking everyone who met his eyes and dropped their own...and those who met his eyes and _didn't_. You could tell so much about someone by how they faced a threat. 

He was just turning the corner when he was _shoved_ from behind, planting him in the wall. He laughed a little, having expected this, turning to find Michael, full of high dudgeon.

_Such_ fire there. Part of him _wanted_ to get burned. He needed to police that; nothing would end well getting mixed up with the daughter of the Emperor. 

And yet. 

She glared at him. Mutinous. Still gorgeous. "That proved nothing."

"Of course. Which is why you needed to follow me and say so," he shot back, delighting in it a bit.

"Gabriel sees _me_ ," she insisted. "Favorite colors are irrelevant."

"Gabriel sees a piece on the board," he dismissed. He leaned forward, holding her gaze. "Me? _I_ see you." Seeing it land in her eyes, he half-smiled, leaning away again. "Come find me when you want to stop playing."

That gauntlet thrown, he pushed off the wall and headed down the hallway, not looking back. 

"I'll collect that favor one day," she called after him, something new in her voice now. Interest, he thought. 

Chris just laughed and kept walking. "We'll see."

*** 

Fin. Feedback is adored.

**Author's Note:**

> I suppose this could serve as a prequel to [Respite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21103121).


End file.
